


huge

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Height Differences, M/M, Married Life, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “Don’t even go there mister, you only have one sock on!”
Relationships: Ennis/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 84
Kudos: 336





	huge

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [what big teeth you have (all the better to eat you with, pretty boy)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25549546) by [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion). 



> inspired by the word “huge”

Stiles is humming under his breath as he shreds potatoes for the breakfast he’s planning on making when Ennis stumbles into the kitchen, clearly half-asleep by the way he ambles right into the island. Ennis grunts, then growls, and when Stiles chances a glance back, his ridiculous oaf of a husband is looking at the kitchen island with his eyes glowing Alpha red. 

“Whatcha doing over there, babe?” Stiles asks, biting into his bottom lip to keep down a laugh when Ennis _bares his fangs._ Oh my god. 

Even more ridiculous is Ennis’ answer. “The counter is disrespecting me.”

Stiles blinks. Rubs his eyes with the hand not currently holding a potato. Blinks again. 

“Wait what?”

The response he gets is another grunt and a half-assed snarl before Ennis changes course and heads to the other counter. Stiles snorts at him when he blindly reaches for his coffee mug and, thankfully, manages to snag it without knocking it onto the ground. Admittedly, Stiles isn’t much better pre-coffee, but at least he can usually _get_ to the coffee without trying to intimidate their kitchen. 

Perhaps the most ridiculous bit is that Ennis is trying to intimidate their kitchen without even being dressed. He’s sporting a pair of briefs, one sock (because he’s disgusting and sleeps with socks on but always kicks one off in the night and _never_ fishes it out of their bedding until Stiles yells at him) and adorably ruffled hair (which he’s only growing out because Stiles really wanted to see what he’d look like without the whole shiny-egg thing going on), which makes him look absolutely adorable and completely nonthreatening. 

The hand that isn’t now holding a coffee mug starts groping around for the coffee pot, which, thankfully, has less chance of flying off the counter even if it has a greater chance of burning. After some patting around and a little bit of cursing, Ennis manages to get his fingers wrapped around the pot’s handle. He makes a victorious little noise that has Stiles falling even further in love with him, and then Ennis pours a cup of coffee and gets half of it on the counter and, wildly, Stiles doesn’t even mind.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks with a growing-grin when the crease between Ennis’ eyebrows grows even deeper and sluggish frustration bleeds along their bond mate-bond. 

“Sugar?” Ennis grunts, which is, well... definitely answer enough. 

Stiles snorts again but he turns around, not one to tease pre-coffee, and he opens the cabinet he needs without looking. He’s reaching for the sugar before his eyes have focused, putting the potato in hand down and wiping his fingers off on the borrowed-shirt he’s swimming in, and he startles when his fingers hit a container that is _definitely_ not the sugar. 

“What,” Stiles says out loud, shaking his head a little to get himself to focus on the inside of the cupboard. 

The sugar, which is _always_ on the second shelf, is currently on the _fifth_ shelf. The fifth shelf, a shelf they only have because of the ridiculously high ceilings that fill their entire home, contains approximately three other items because Stiles can’t reach it. In the middle of those items—which are all very close to the edge, in case Stiles ever has to jump to grab something—is the container of sugar, shining in all its containery glory. 

Ennis knows that Stiles can’t reach it. 

“You moved it.” Stiles pouts at the container of sugar and wiggles his fingers at it, hoping against hope it’ll jump off the shelf and fall into his hands. 

It doesn’t. 

Which... well that’s just plain rude. Werewolves exist but animated kitchenware isn’t real. Horrible. 

Ennis makes a pathetic noise that makes it sound like he’s _dying_ and when Stiles looks back, he’s staring at him through half-lidded eyes with a miserable looking frown painted across his pretty lips. Stiles raises an eyebrow. 

“You know the rules babe. You move it, you get it,” Stiles tells him as he starts back on the potatoes, expecting Ennis to wobble up behind him and grab the sugar himself. 

Only, that doesn’t happen. 

Ennis, the ridiculous man that he is, whines. _Pitifully._

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles asks incredulously, spinning around and placing his hands on his hips while dragging up the most flabbergasted expression he can muster. 

“You’re small,” Ennis tells him with a deepening pout. “I like watching you hop for things. Your ass jiggles.”

“I’m not small! I’m, like, almost six feet!” Stiles protests, waving his arms about to add emphasis while completely ignoring the second part of Ennis’ statement. “You’re just ridiculously huge!”

“You think I’m huge, pretty boy,” Ennis asks with him a stupid grin across his stupid face that looks _stupidly good,_ the asshole. 

“Don’t even go there mister, you only have one sock on!” 

Ennis’ pout stretches into the most ridiculous grin Stiles has ever seen in his _life_ (which is, of course, an exaggeration, considering Stiles has seen that same grin a number of times during their relationship). 

“Aw, but you think I’m huge,” Ennis tells him, flexing all his muscles in a way that’s, obviously, _ridiculous._

Ennis puts his coffee down on the table and starts walking forward on shuffling feet, and Stiles pouts and says, “You are. It’s ridiculous! You’re like a mountain and it’s completely unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” Ennis asks, his voice all deep and growly in a way that _always_ makes Stiles’ heart race. “I thought you liked how big I am, little spark.”

“I thought you wanted the sugar,” Stiles fires back, keeping his hands on his hips and the firmest expression he can hold when Ennis just gets closer and closer.

Ennis throws his head back with a laugh and he’s freaking _beautiful,_ it’s so unfair. When he looks back _down_ at Stiles, because he _is_ seriously a giant, the skin around his eyes is wrinkled deeply with his smile. His beard, speckled throughout with grey, is thicker than he normally keeps it and his smile is blindingly white against the reddish hairs.

“I don’t know, baby, I could think of another way to wake myself up,” Ennis tells him with an eyebrow waggle that he is _definitely_ too old to be making. 

Then, because he’s a mountain and a giant oaf and the most ridiculous man _ever,_ he picks Stiles up. 

“I was making breakfast,” Stiles protests weakly which seems even weaker considering the fact that Ennis now has one elbow under his knees and one in the middle of his back and Stiles’ feet are nowhere near the ground.

“You could be making something else,” Ennis tells him, turning on his heel to march them both out of the kitchen, pile of shredded potatoes left on the counter and freshly poured cup of coffee cooling. 

“If you say a baby I swear to God,” Stiles starts, poking his husband’s ridiculous chest and wincing when it barely gives. Ugh. 

Ennis grins even wider at him and picks up his pace as he says, “We could make it happen one of these days! We just have to keep trying.”

Stiles presses his fingers against Ennis’ jaw and physically closes his mouth the second he goes to say something else. After a second of blessed silence, he taps Ennis’ chin with his thumb. “No,” he says clearly, once they’re at the top of the stairs, “stop talking if you want to take me to bed.”

Ennis ducks his chin and snags the tip of Stiles’ thumb between his teeth, and around a smile topped with fangs, he manages to slur out, “Sir yes sir,” before he rushes into their bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> kudos aren’t the same as getting a comment, not even close. so a comment, as short and sweet or as sprawling and sporadic as you can manage, would be _greatly_ appreciated! don't know what to comment? how about _”this was great!”_ or _“awesome work!”_


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